The cold was the first thing I noticed; frigid dampness beneath my cheek and bare feet that should not have been there. The wind howled through my window and it sounded like somebody crying.

In that amorphous, half-awake state when reality and dream-reality were impossible to distinguish, I thought this was the most fucked-up dream I’d ever had. I tried to roll over in bed, to find the blanket I’d kicked off, but I encountered only…mud. There was a loud crack on the other side of the room that didn’t sound at all like Daphne.

I came to in a moment of panic, thinking Where am I? followed quickly and illogically by Where is Silas? I tried to sit up, but I couldn’t. My left arm was trapped beneath me, prickly-numb like it was asleep, and my head emitted tiny little lightning-shocks of pain when I tried to open my eyes, draw a deep breath, or move in any way.

I was going to throw up.

What the actual fuck?

I forced one eye to open, even though the action made pinwheels burst across my brain, but it was nearly as dark with my eye open as it had been with it closed. The air smelled like pine and decay and I heard… the ocean? Or maybe just the wind rushing through leaves.

Either way, I was outside, I realized. It was fucking cold, I was dressed in nothing but a thin button-down and jeans, my shoes were not on my feet, and I was outside, when I couldn’t remember how the fuck I’d gotten here.

I tried to move again, but I realized I was immobile for a reason. My right arm was tied at the wrist to something above my head. If I moved my fingers just slightly, I could touch the fucking rope.

I was tied down. With rope.

Sweet baby Jesus, I had ended up in a Criminal Minds episode. And oh my God, if there was a real serial killer on the loose, Karen Mitchener-Martin would literally never shut up about being right.

The moaning noise I’d mistaken for crying came again and I forced my cheek a bare half-inch off the ground, just enough so I could get both eyes open and turn my eyes up. I could barely discern the indigo-blue of the sky through the inkier darkness of the trees, but it was enough to realize that it was late, so late it might nearly be morning.

Something moved on the ground not far from me and I turned my gaze down. There was a lump of blackness there, like a large dog or maybe a person covered in blankets, and I froze in place, shutting my eyes just in case the person or thing had better vision than I did.

Don’t let them see you move. This fact had been drilled into me by a hundred hours spent watching police procedurals, because the really depraved shit always happened after the killer saw that you were awake. And that thought made me think of how Silas would laugh his ass off when I told him that my shitty police shows actually were good for something after all…

If I got to tell him.

Fuck.

I cudgeled my memory, trying to recall how the hell I had gotten here, but my brain was sluggish at best. I’d been at the diner with Silas. I remembered that. Then we’d gone home and… God, I remembered the fight in Si’s kitchen with total clarity. The terrible, selfish things I’d said, the devastated look on his face. I remembered walking out the door and barely making it down the street before I’d wanted to turn around and apologize, to beg him to hold me and give me another chance.

But what had happened after that?

Where was I? And where was Silas?

I heard footsteps and whispers. Someone was walking around out here, talking to someone else. And I wondered for a second if it was Silas coming to get me. I remembered him saying he wouldn’t stop searching for me, if I were ever trapped and… God.

Okay. Okay, brain, we are going to think of productive things now. Getting free. Getting home. Getting to Silas.

I squinted my eyes open again and saw a figure the size and shape of a human walking back and forth. The sky had lightened enough, or my vision had cleared enough, to make out that I was in a clearing, with trees all around me.

The lump on the ground moaned again, and the walking and whispering stopped for a second. The human walked closer, hesitant and slow, and suddenly turned on a flashlight, illuminating the lump.

“You just… you just stay quiet, Frank. You hear me?” the person threatened, kicking the lump on the ground. “You stay right where you are or… or I’m gonna have to do something bad.”

The voice sounded familiar, so familiar. Like it was someone I’d spoken to before, recently, but I couldn’t place it. Why wouldn’t my brain work?

“W-what’s happening?” Frank whispered from the ground. “Where am I? W-why are you doing this?”

“No talking!” the person instructed, kicking Frank again, and Frank cried out sharply. “No talking! I need to think. I can’t… I can’t think.”

The man turned on his heel and walked away a short distance. It seemed like he was tapping himself on the head as he muttered to himself once more. “It wasn’t supposed to happen again. It wasn’t my fault, with the other ones. The camper. The ranger. She understood that. But I promised no more and now look what I had to do. I’m going to have to kill you, too, and she’s gonna be so mad.”

“I don’t understand,” Frank whined softly. His voice broke. “Shane, please. I can help you…”

Oh, God. Oh, dear God. The crazy man was Shane?

I gasped, just a soft little inhale I prayed he didn’t hear, but a second later the glare of the flashlight was turned on me, and I squeezed my eyes closed to protect myself from the light.

“Oh, no,” Shane moaned. “You weren’t supposed to wake up. Neither of you was supposed to wake up. This would be so much easier if you stayed asleep.”

Except I hadn’t been asleep. I remembered now. Shane had seen me walking home. He’d pulled over to offer me a ride. I’d said no, but he’d insisted.

Don’t worry, Ev, he’d said, once I was sitting in his little red car. It’ll all be alright. He’d offered me a napkin and a bottle of water.

And I’d been so grateful for his comfort, for the kindness of this virtual stranger, I’d decided that O’Leary was the best place in the world.

Take me back to Silas’s house? I’d asked, after taking a deep drink, and he’d smiled and said he would.

And then… nothing. My mind fuzzed out, like an old-school television with no reception.

“Shane, what’s happening?” I asked, even though I was really confident I did not want to know.

“I’m sorry, Ev. I liked you. I mean, I do like you. I do.”

I could barely keep my eyes open, my head was throbbing so badly. “I like you, too, Shane,” I lied.

“But I thought you understood how it was. How love was. You’re married.”

“I was,” I whispered. “I was. His name was Adrian.”

“And you love him so much,” Shane said eagerly. “You love him more than anything in the whole wide world.”

I frowned. There was no way Shane could know that, since I’d barely spoken Adrian’s name. “I love him a lot,” I agreed. “I took care of him until he died.”

“But then how could you cheat on him with Silas?”

“I didn’t,” I whispered.

“That was wrong, Ev,” Shane insisted.

And… okay, here’s the thing. I’m not exactly proud to say that it took a fucking psychopath repeating my bullshit back to me to recognize it for the total lie it was, but… yeah, that’s pretty much what happened.

Because when Shane said, “That was wrong,” in his over-eager, crazypants voice, I could hear how ridiculous it sounded. How weak and stupid. All I could think was, “No. It’s the rightest thing ever. It was destined, and ordained, and meant to be. It’s exactly the way it should be.”

Yesterday, I’d accused Silas of using love as something to beat me over the head with, when in truth, that’s what I had done. Every time things with Silas were wonderful, I’d conjured an image of Adrian, forced myself to remember how painful it was to lose him and how much I owed to him, like if I could somehow hold myself back from loving Silas, I’d be able to protect myself.

What a terrible thing that was. Terrible for me, terrible for Silas, and maybe most terrible for Adrian, who deserved to be remembered for the funny, kind, supportive, fussy, proud, candy-loving man he had been.

At the end of a life, did it matter if anyone remembered the way you smiled or exactly the way you’d parted your hair? Did it matter if they used your stocking hangers at Christmas, or planted the flowers you liked? Or was it more important to live in a way that honored the way they’d loved you and the way they’d changed you? Because those were things I would never, never be able to forget, not until the day I died. No matter who else I loved.

Just like Grandpa Hen had said, damn it.

“People can’t just change their minds,” Shane explained, almost kindly. “Not about things like this.”

“I haven’t changed my mind about anything,” I told him with perfect honesty. “I loved Adrian when he was alive, and I love him still. Grief is eternal, just like… just like this land. It changes a little, but the essential parts stay the same.”

Shane shook his head and his flashlight swung wide, reflecting off Frank again. The man had somehow managed to push himself to sit up, but his hands were tied in front of him. But Frank’s eyes widened as he watched Shane.

“No,” Shane said more vehemently. “That’s where you’re wrong. Love doesn’t change. If you love someone, you have to stay in love forever. Molly didn’t understand that, either.” He shook his head sadly.

“I thought… I thought Molly did love you,” I said. “That’s what everyone says.”

“She did,” Shane said proudly. “She did. We loved each other for years. But she listened to the wrong people, and they steered her wrong. Told her she could leave town, leave me and everyone else who cared about her.”

“She was going to school,” I reminded him. “And it was a terrible accident that took her, Shane, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t love you. She didn’t have a choice. When Adrian died…”

Shane cut me off by waving his hand through the air, and as his arm passed through the beam of the flashlight, there was a dull, metallic gleam.

I thought I understood why Frank’s eyes had gone wide. Shane had a fucking gun.

I tried to roll over again, but the hand beneath me wouldn’t cooperate. I shifted my weight and tried to move my fingers, but the pain that sang up my arm made me bite my lip and stay still.

“That’s not what happened,” Shane sighed. He squatted down near my feet like he was about to deliver a friendly, paternal lecture. You know, with a gun.

“Listen, Ev, here’s the thing you have to understand. Molly was confused, okay? It wasn’t her fault.”

I frowned, but nodded along like I was totally listening, because the guy with the gun was always right. I’d learned that from television, too.

“You know, I was the first one to show her this place, back when we started dating? She’d never been to the falls before.” He smiled, like he was reliving the memory. “First time we ever kissed was up here.”

“It’s a pretty place.” I fought to keep the fear and pain from my voice.

“It is. And I didn’t mind when she shared it with Matty, not much. They were just friends. People have a lot of friends, but they only love one person. You know?”

Oh my God. Shane was talking like he was eight, like the whole world was composed of simple, black-and-white truths.

“Sure,” I whispered. “Hey, Shane, something’s not right with my arm.”

“Hmm? Oh. I’m pretty sure you broke it when I dropped you.” He shrugged apologetically.

“You… dropped me?”

“Yep. Had to carry you up here last night all alone, you know? I’m stronger than people think.” He grinned.

“Yeah. Wow,” I breathed. “Do you think maybe you could help me turn over? I… I really think it might be broken.”

Shane tilted his head to the side, like I was a child. “Ev. You know I can’t do that. You’ll try to run away, and I can’t have that.”

I swallowed.

Shane was literally crazy. The cold reality of that was beginning to really seep into me. He was literally crazy, and he had a gun, and he wouldn’t let me get away.

I fought the rising tide of panic that threatened to swamp me. I would get away, because I owed Silas an apology and I needed to tell him I loved him. This would not end with us in a fight. No fucking way.

“So what happened?” I asked. Keep him talking. Lesson three of police procedurals. Let him do his villain monologue.

“She said some hurtful things.” Shane shook his head. “Said she wasn’t sure she wanted us to be committed when she went off to school. Said she wanted to take a break.” He snickered. “I mean, come on, right?”

I swallowed and nodded. “Crazy,” I breathed. I was definitely talking about him.

“I just wanted to stop her, you know? To show her I was serious about not letting her leave.”

Frank made a strangled sound. “Oh, God, Shane. What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Shane surged to his feet, brandishing the gun at Frank. “It wasn’t me. It was Molly. Molly and Matty. They were going back to school, and I wanted to stop her. So I took my car out on the Camden road to meet her and I… tried to get them to stop. That was all. Just to stop.”

A chill shivered down my spine that had nothing to do with the relentless chill in the air, or the cold, damp earth on my feet. “What happened?” I asked, distracting him.

“Matty didn’t know how to drive!” Shane clasped both hands to his head, pressing the side of the gun against his own temple. “I pulled up alongside them and he ran off the fucking road and into a tree.” He sobbed. “That’s not what I meant to happen.”

“Of course not. You loved her,” I agreed. I bent my legs slightly, trying to lever myself over. Every millimeter of movement ricocheted up my arm.

“I do love her,” he agreed. “I got her out of the car, but it was too late.” He sniffed. “She was dead.”

“Oh, Shane,” Frank said, and honest to God, I just wished he would hush, because every word out of his mouth just made Shane swing that fucking gun around again.

“It was an accident,” Shane screamed.

Frank nodded vigorously. “No, of course. Yes. An accident.”

Shane panted for a moment, then swallowed audibly. “But it was okay, Frank. It was okay, because you know what I figured out?”

Frank shook his head.

“It was better this way,” Shane whispered. “This way, she would always be mine and no one else’s.”

It was such a warped version of what I’d thought about Adrian just a couple of months ago that I once again fought the need to vomit.

“I made a place for her,” Shane said. “In the woods. The place you found.”

He swung the gun toward me and I cowered. I did.

“It was beautiful, Shane,” I said. “A beautiful tribute. With the chimes.” And the invasive, poisonous weeds.

“Molly loved chimes,” Shane said, his mouth quirking in a smile. “I buy some for her every birthday.”

A shrine to lost love. Fuck. Silas had been right, but neither of us had understood just how far Shane had gone.

“That’s nice,” Frank offered.

Shane swung in his direction again. “It would have been nice, Frank. Until you gave up the land!”

“I didn’t give it up,” Frank protested. “Honestly! I fought and fought, Shane, you know that!”

“And now?”

Frank was silent.

Shane nodded. “You’ve just decided to let them have Molly’s place.” He stepped away. “This is the problem,” he said. “Things need to not change. We need to keep them the way they were. I need to put things right.”

“W-what does that mean?” Frank asked.

Jesus, God, Frank. Shut up!

“That means I have to take you to the falls, just like I did with John Carpenter,” Shane said sadly. His lips twisted. “I wish I didn’t have to, Frank, but you’re responsible for this.”

“I… But I… But Myrna!” Frank babbled, near tears.

Shane shook his head, and something nearby buzzed. He frowned and dug his phone out of his pocket.

“Shit,” he said. “Shit.” He looked at Frank. “They know you’re missing! They’re sending out a party to look for you.”

I closed my eyes and sighed. Of course Shane was on the list of people they’d call when they needed a search party. Shane knew everyone. Everyone thought they knew him.

“We’ve gotta go,” Shane said. “Stand up.”

I knew I wasn’t supposed to go with him. He was taking us to the place where he planned to kill us, after all. But what the hell was I supposed to do? Would it be better to just have him shoot me here?

“I can’t,” I reminded him. “I’m tied down.”

“Ah, shit,” he said. “Frank, untie Ev.”

“My head,” Frank complained. “I can’t hardly…”

“It’ll be worse than your head when I kill you right here,” Shane countered. “Do it!”

Frank crawled over to me, his hands still bound in front of him.

“I-I can’t get the knot,” Frank said, his voice quavering. “I need a knife.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m not giving you a knife,” Shane yelled. “Untie him or I’ll shoot you right here!”

“Shane, think for a second,” I soothed. “Just think. If you shoot us here, they’ll find you. You know they will. They’ll trace the gun and know it was you.”

Shane frowned, like he hadn’t considered this.

“Who’ll take care of Molly’s place if you get caught?”

“You’re trying to trick me.”

“I wouldn’t!” I so would. “I just know how it feels to lose someone, remember? Toss Frank a pocketknife, if you have one, and he’ll give it back as soon as he cuts me loose.”

Shane frowned, but I held his gaze. The sky was lighter now — pink and gold, like sunrise was coming — and I could see him clearly, read the indecision on his face.

“Course I have a pocketknife,” he said. He tossed it at Frank. “No funny business.”

I shook my head solemnly. “No way.” And then I added, just to keep him distracted, “What happened with John Carpenter? Did he disturb Molly’s place?”

“Yeah,” Shane admitted. “I go there to talk to her a lot. I was telling her I forgave her, and I was sorry it had to happen like that, and next thing I knew, he was right there. Listening.”

I shuddered. Poor John Carpenter.

“And then Elliot Marks?” I prompted.

“Same thing,” he said. “I had to go back and make sure Carpenter hadn’t left anything behind for you guys to find and Elliot saw me there. He tried to pretend it was fine, but I could see he was suspicious.” Shane shook his head. “He had to go.”

Fuck. Seeing how paranoid Shane was, it was likely Elliot hadn’t been suspicious at all.

“It was easy,” Shane mused. “No one in town suspected a thing.”

“That’s for sure,” I agreed. And as much as I hated the way O’Leary never allowed people to change, for better or worse, I thought it was probably to their credit that they’d never think one of their own capable of something like this.

I really hoped they stayed that way after someone figured out what Shane had done.

Because they would. I believed that truly. Whether I got out of this or not, whether he was mad at me or not, Silas wouldn’t rest until he’d caught the person responsible.

Silas didn’t give up. And I swore right then and there, I would never give up on him.

Frank cut through the rope behind me and straightened. “It’s done,” he said.

“Toss me the knife.”

Frank hesitated for a second, then threw it high and wide, so it sailed off into the woods behind Shane. “Sorry!” Frank said. “Sorry! My aim is terrible!”

Shane fumed and his jaw worked. For a second, I thought he was going to kill Frank then and there. But instead, he jerked his gun to the side. “Move. Ev first.”

We headed out — me fucking barefoot, not that it mattered at this point where my shoes were — and I tried to think of a way out of this, but my panicked brain refused to comply. I could jump to the side, duck behind a tree. I might be able to run far and fast enough to get away at first. But then Shane would shoot Frank and come after me… and I knew for a fact that I wasn’t nearly good enough at orienteering to elude him for more than ten seconds.

“I killed him the day you came to town,” Shane said from behind me. “John Carpenter, I mean. I’d left my car parked down one of the paths off the Camden road, and by the time I’d cleaned up, it was full dark. I thought you were gonna hit me with your car.” He chuckled.

I stumbled to a stop. “Wait. That was you? Out on the road.”

“Almost hit me,” Shane repeated. “Wouldn’t that have been something?”

I turned in place, stunned. I’d thought he was Adrian. I’d thought he was some kind of ghost or sign from above…

I almost wished I had hit him.

“Walk on,” he said sharply, nudging Frank in the back with the gun.

Frank stumbled forward a step, crashing into me. I nearly blacked out from the pain and sank to my knees. He pressed something into my hand that I caught when I went down.

The knife?

Frank knelt to help me up, his eyes widened significantly. For the first time, I could see how badly his head was bleeding, like he’d been coshed over the head, and his face was a grayish white that didn’t bode well for him being able to survive the walk, let alone whatever Shane had in store.

“Whoa! You okay there, Ev?” Frank asked loudly, helping me to my feet. “Go for Shane,” he whispered in my ear. “I can hardly see straight.”

Go for Shane? I wasn’t exactly sure how this was going to work at all — funny how they never showed this shit on police shows. Maybe Silas was right about them after all — but I knew we had to try something or else I would die here, and Silas and I deserved far, far better than that.

“My arm,” I yelled, cradling my broken arm to my chest with my good one. “Shane, please help me! The bone is sticking out and everything!”

Shane took a half-step closer, peering down at my arm like he couldn’t help himself, and I knew that was the best shot I would get. Risk aversion had a time and a place, but this was not it.

I palmed the knife I’d been holding in my good hand and stabbed at the hand that held Shane’s gun. He screamed as the blade glanced off his skin and the gun went tumbling to the ground. Frank dropped to his knees to grab it at the same time Shane did, the two of them scrambling across the fern-and-leaf covered forest floor.

Fuck.

The knife was still in my hand, and I didn’t hesitate, not even for a second. I jammed the knife into the back of Shane’s shoulder and twisted it as hard as I could.

He screamed and fell, and I fell with him, all out of balance and clutching my poor arm, which might never work properly again. I hit the ground hard, the knife still stuck in Shane’s back.

Shane lunged for me, grabbing my bad arm with his good arm and yanking, which was more effective than pretty much anything else he could have done. I cried out in agony and lay on my back staring up at the treetops and the pinkening sky.

It was not going to end like this. I rolled to the side as Shane brought his good hand down toward my face…

And a gunshot ricocheted around the forest.

I pushed to my feet and found Frank, kneeling in the wet leaves and panting, both hands gripping Shane’s gun, staring at Shane’s lifeless body. He’d shot him directly in the chest.

“Jesus,” I breathed, stunned. “You… Frank… you…”

“I swear I saw two of him,” Frank wailed. “I’m just glad I hit the right one.” He slid to the side and landed on his ass.

I snorted. Then chuckled. Then buried my head in my good hand and cried.

“Come on, Everett,” Frank said. “Stand up and let’s…”

“Frank? Everett?” someone called.

“Here!” Frank yelled.

I sniffled and pushed myself to my feet.

Silas pushing through the brush a second later was like a dream of water after too long a time in the desert. I couldn’t believe he was real at first. But he was staring at me, love shining in those blue eyes I wanted to see every single day for the rest of my life, and his arms were outstretched like he wasn’t sure if he should come to me or not.

I ran at him, clutching my broken arm to my chest because I swear to God in that minute Silas was more important. Like air. Like gravity. Like hope. And he caught me, the way he always had.

The way he always would.

“Fuck,” he said. “I love you. I love you so damn much. And I don’t give a shit if you don’t love me back yet, because you will Ev. You’ve changed my mind about destiny, because you and I are meant to be together.”

I sobbed, of course I did, but not because I was sad. For the first time in a long time I realized that I didn’t have to be. I could love Adrian and Silas. I could be brave enough to do that.

“You’re wrong,” I told Silas, not sure he could even understand me because I was a hot mess of tears and pain and love. “I love you. I do. I have for a while now. And you were right all along. It’s not destiny, it’s choice. And Silas Sloane? I choose you. I choose us.”